


Surprise

by TariTheNurse



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Lemon, Magic Fingers, Mild Kink, Multi, No Plot/Plotless, Oral Sex, Pampering, Semi-Public Sex, Sex, Shower Sex, Surprise Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 10:28:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20388235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TariTheNurse/pseuds/TariTheNurse
Summary: This is what my twisted brain came up with after getting this wonderful, celebratory challenge tossed at me by my darling. She did…”recommend” a certain theme (as seen by tags), but at least I got to choose Loki and Bucky for it and the prompt [A: “What’s wrong with my scarf?” B: “It’s still wrapped around your neck.”].





	Surprise

Having to get back to work late is rarely your idea of fun, not even with the dream of a job you have as a sort of public image agent for the Avengers. Most of them know how to behave themselves out in the world, but then there do happen to be the four troublemakers known as Thor, Tony, Bucky, and Loki.

The first can easily be excused thanks to the cheerfully courteous behaviour making him resemble a loving puppy (maybe a Golden Retriever?).

And Bucky Barnes? Well, he’s learning fast and the lack of respect he shows towards certain people or subjects is readily explained by his either his history or the times he grew up in – besides not a lot of people are willing to openly complain about the Winter Soldier’s manners. You’ll do anything to get Barnes off the hook because that man…well, let’s just say you would do _anything_ for him. Not that he would give you the chance, of course. And hopefully only Parker has noticed your cringeworthy teenage-like reaction whenever the former assassin enters the room or as you hang by any little sign the man gives to show what he feels or thinks.

Of the two remaining you’d much rather deal with Tony’s impulsivity which all things considered has gotten better over the last years (plus Pepper still handles him out of sheer stubbornness).

That leaves Loki, God of Mischief. Just like Bucky, he can be as dangerous as he’s attractive, but this guy is fully aware of it and makes sure to flirt with you in the best of dark manners. He flirts with everyone, and still you can’t help but soak it all up until you _are_ soaking and the god walks off with a wicked grin on his lips at your predicament. As often as he’s mischievous, though, he’s gallant too, smart beyond measure, and the best person to talk to. Not many people get to do that.

It's because of a gloomy text from Loki that you now are pushing through the door and past the night guard, you enjoy the warm air in your face more than whatever disaster awaits that couldn’t possibly wait till the morning. _I hope he didn’t stab anyone again._ A glance at the phone doesn’t tell you anything new, forcing you to wait impatiently for the only elevator that leads all the way up to the floors reserved for the group of heroes, your fingers dancing over the screen as you write and delete numerous replies.

_*ding*_

Still engrossed with your phone you step into the small space and reach out by habit to push the button. Fingertips find the cool metal, smooth and hard against the skin and not at all the fixed surface it’s supposed to be but rather mobile enough to wrap around your hand.

“What the _fuck_?!”

You’d literally have fallen out of the elevator if it wasn’t for a strong arm grabbing you around the waist. Your heart is beating wildly and the breathing is following the same pattern, only stilling momentarily at the proximity of the face taking it all in with a puzzled frown. _Bucky._ Stormy eyes sweep to your lips which suddenly feel too dry. _Don’t do it…don’t..._ But your tongue darts out to wet them regardless of the brain’s order.

“I’m sorry, mister Bar–“

“Bucky.”

The deep voice sends shivers to the very ends of your body, calling your attention to the closeness with which he still holds you. It feels safe in his arm. The embrace is strong, warm, and almost…commanding. The drumming of your heart can neither be attributed the shock anymore nor does it slow when you look away from his perfect eyes and lips, accidentally noticing the torso instead.

“I didn’t mean to scare ya, doll.” _Doll?_ He’s never called you that. He’s never really called you anything except your name. He genuinely sounds concerned as he continues: “Ya fine?”

Somehow, he repositions you next to the panel with the floor-buttons without letting go of you.

“Yeah…didn’t expect anyone errm here…” He still hasn’t moved from you (not that you want him to), watching every word fall from your lips. “Are…are you heading…out?”

The push of the button to the communal area seems to be the only answer you’ll get until the doors to the elevator have slid closed with a soft hiss and you feel the journey up begin.

“Your heart,” Bucky gently begins, his voice growing bolder as he continues, “it always starts to gallop when ya see me…ya blush sometimes…or maybe that’s because of what ya might be thinking.” A metal hand finds the first button on the winter coat you’re wearing but stops before it slips all the way through the hole. “Tell me, babe…do ya want me to back off?”

“No. Please…c-continue.”

He does. One hand tugging your pelvis closer by the hip till you’re straddling one of his thighs, the hard muscles pressing tantalizingly against your clit through layers of clothes and making you ache for more friction, more…him. Forehead against forehead, he searches for your lips but tauntingly evades the first few times you attempt to close the distance and you can’t help the tiny whine that escapes your throat. The softest chuckle can be heard through the sound of the elevator the second before he finally allows the efforts to bear fruit.

_Hot daymn._

Full lips molding perfectly to yours. A scratch of stubbles against the chin as he deepens the kiss, brushing his tongue along the soft flesh to gain entrance timed perfectly with a slight rocking of his hips that sets your body aflame.

Phone and purse disappear from your grasp. It doesn’t matter. It only matters that his hands return to you, unbuttoning the coat to discard it and press you flush against the mirror-wall. By now your own hands are clawing at his shirt to pull it free of his waist and up – you want to feel his skin, feel how the muscles work to continue the rolling pressure against your cunt or to rid you of the fuzzy sweater hiding nothing but a tank top and your bra.

“Fucking amazing,” Bucky murmurs against the part of the throat he can reach for the scarf, “I’ve needed ya for ages.”

_Need. _Dropping to his knees before you, he makes quick work of the single button and zipper holding up your trousers, tugging the dark fabric down to pool around your ankles. The rush of air prickles your skin, but it’s the stroking with the metal hand that sets the goosebumps off and you can’t look away from Bucky’s face glowing with lust and adoration as he slides the fingers to the hem of your knickers, skimming just beneath the lace before he pulls away.

“This gotta go.” The man grabs your top resolutely, ripping it to shreds. “Perfect.”

As strong as he can be, just as gentle is he now as he focuses on your breasts, massaging them deftly through the thin fabric, rolling a nipple between his fingers to hear the moan as the sensitive nerves light your brain with signals of pleasure.

_*Ding*_

The elevator has come to a stop. The doors slide open and you’re about to gather your clothes when Bucky stops you. His breath is heavy just like your own, his eyes dark with wanton lust. Next instant you’re flush chest to chest, knees clamped around his hips as Bucky carries you effortlessly down the hallway. An arm is supporting you under your ass, a finger placed perfectly to stroke short passes through the damp spot of the lace until you squirm for more. And he’ll give it to you, there’s no doubt as deep growls reverberate from his mouth to yours, intensifying as you cart your fingers through his hair.

Somehow, Bucky has managed to work off your winter boots to finally yank the trousers from you, and as you reposition to wraps your legs around him completely, there’s no hiding the bulge in his pants.

“Please,” you moan as you roll your hips against him, “please.”

He stumbles, barely managing to avoid crushing you against the wall. “Almost there, doll.”

By the time he barges through a door (presumably to his bedroom), you’re wearing underwear and the scarf, gleefully wrangling Bucky’s t-shirt over his head despite the break you have to take from his lips. _Fucking hell,_ the man’s gorgeous. Smooth skin except where it’s stopped abruptly to make room for the metal plates that whirr subtly with each movement. Kisses and bites and kitten-licks trace the scar until the strained neck compels you, made accessible by a tug of his hair which makes him groan so deliciously.

The world tilts, the softness of a bed rising to meet the two of you, all tangled limbs and wandering hands. The bounce of the mattress sends new waves of yearning through your body, but Bucky’s focus has shifted to the scarf.

“Of course…” His face is impossible to read.

“What’s wrong with my scarf?”

The calculative smile sends shivers down your spine. “It’s still wrapped around your neck…didn’t ya wonder why?” To be honest, it wasn’t really _that_ detail you’d been focused most on, but it does feel odd now and you reach for it only to have your hands caught in metal while his flesh hand loosens the soft silk. “Ya trust me, doll?”

“Yes.”

Search as they might, the blue eyes can’t find any hesitation. “Good.”

Your hands are released and find his back where muscles tighten and relax to form an endlessly moving landscape beneath the scratch of your fingernails as you try to pull him closer to deepen the slobby kiss that already is making your dizzy. The light scarf slips from your throat ever so gently, only to be coaxed before your eyes and around the head once, twice, before you can feel Bucky tying a knot.

“Just enjoy, babe,” he mumbles, stubbles scratching your cleavage only for the skin to be soothed by kisses.

How could you not enjoy? Working his way down your body there’s not a single spot he misses despite occupying his hands elsewhere for a moment. The jangle of a belt buckle, the sound of a zipper preceding a few seconds of no contact where you can hear the jeans being discarded.

Reaching down for him, it comes as a surprise to feel his cold touch on your breast at an angle that hints at another position than expected, but it doesn’t matter as his fingers push past the lace to tease the nipple. _Cold. _It’s nearly painful to the sensitive bud that puckers at the sensation, making you arch into the palm of the big hand. Maybe that was the plan, because you can feel him reach beneath your back and release the clasp with a flick of his cold fingers. _Why so cold?_ A hand, warm and calloused, slides up your thigh while the familiar smoothness of metal caresses your waist before shimmying to the hem of your knickers. _Four hands._

You only get as far as opening your mouth when Bucky answers. “Trust me, doll.” Hot kisses through the lace onto the damp of your pussy. “Trust us.”

A new mouth finds your neck, the scent of pines and frost rather than metal and oil going straight to your brain to light up all the switchboards with a familiarity that has you gasping for more. _Loki?_ Who else can it be with a tongue so skillfully playing across your skin until mouths meet, hungry for confirmation of each others’ intent? The Asgardian’s lips might be thinner than Bucky’s but they’re no less wonderful, capable of drawing moans from you that spur both men on.

They’re completely in sync, pulling the lingerie away at the same time, each following up with a hand working its way up your inner thigh while worshipping your upper body with their mouths. Trying to reach for them brings you no success, unless you consider having your wrists pinned to the bed (again) as a win (yeah, you might).

Cold and warm fingers caress your wet folds, circling each other to play with the clit that throbs sweetly with each touch, making you arch and gasp with need.

“So perfect.” Loki’s voice is smooth like silk despite the underlying purr.

“Mmmm,” the gruffer sound of Bucky agrees, “so wet for us.”

Using a finger each, they push into your core, releasing a trembling moan that stutters and grows in strength as they find a rhythm together. Sometimes one curls a finger, other times they push deep. Every time it feels better than anything before.

“Fuck _oh_ god!”

Cold breath fans a nipple, a warning before teeth dig into the tender skin on the side of the boob, but there’s hardly any time to revel in the pleasurable sting before one of your hands is guided to a hard cock leaking from the tip to allow a smooth glide when fingers have wrapped around the shaft and spread the lubricant around the crown. You must be doing it well because someone’s breathing picks up drastically.

One of them, you can’t tell who anymore, starts to circle the clit with a steady pressure sending waves of warm tension to every cell of your body. The steady pump and twist of the man in your hand falters as your toes curl and pelvis rises from the bed, only for the latter to be pushed down.

“Not yet,” Loki chuckles by your side.

Breaking away from you, the men reposition you with a few pillows against the headboard though still lying more than sitting. Strong hands spread your legs while Bucky (judging by the feel of the thighs) straddles you and reclaims your jaw.

“Open wide.” You follow Bucky’s command, now certain that he’s the one hovering above you. “Good girl.”

The girth of his cock requires some getting used to, patience that you find hard to muster at the taste of him in your mouth. And just when you begin to take him deeper: a tongue, flat and flexible against your folds as it traces the paths used before. The sensation sends lightning of fuzzy pleasure along every nerve to your brain. A groan, muffled by Bucky’s manhood, rips from deep in your throat and spurs him on to thrust into your mouth shallowly. Your tongue unknowingly mirrors Loki’s, circling with a hard tip and lapping broadly at the most sensitive area or bestowing long strokes.

Your jaw is aching when the both release you, the tangy precum clear in your mouth while you lie bared for them both to admire.

“Ya been doing so well, doll,” Bucky’s kisses on your neck linger, “do ya want more?”

The stiffness in your jaw is only half the reason why the answer is nothing more than a nod.

Loki’s hips slot between your thighs, his mouth close to your ear. “Answer us.” The love bite stings sweetly in the earlobe.

“Y-yes!”

The reply leads over in a strangled cry as the God of Mischief fills your core deviously slowly. The delectable stretch mixing with cold in the tight heat, walls clamping down with a flutter not unlike the release of air from your lungs.

Then he stills.

“Please,” the whimpered plea escapes.

Bucky’s hand cradles your skull. The scarf is released. Blinking against the light, you take in the towering figure above you who’s stroking his cock lazily.

_Wait…no._ It’s not the soldier’s hand wrapping around the erection with long fingers stretching to roll the sac but Loki’s who’s lean frame has brought his face within inches of the other man’s crotch. Staring with growing desperation, you look as Loki strokes a few times before moving your hand up to join with fingers entwined and you would never consider objecting when Bucky lifts your mouth within range. Tongues dance across thin skin. Sloppy kisses are lavished as much onto lips as the crown and shaft of the cock. And each time Loki stretches to reach, his hips roll gloriously to reach deeper as someone – you don’t care who – pulls your legs onto his shoulders and the pace quickens.

That’s the first time you cum. White spurts of hot across your sweaty chest, cold deep within you, while your back arches in violent shakes to the mingled praises.

They let your calm down, bringing you something to drink before coaxing you into the shower where soap-perfume and steam fill your noses, overlapping the fragrance of sex, as you truly get to adore the perfectly shaped men – different yet equally marvellous. Explorations become more frantic. Greedy. Your core clenches, clit throbs, fingers slip and slide until you are pinned between them riding on Bucky and with Loki somehow entering through even tighter muscles. It’s painful at first, but they know how to make you relax and prepare for the strangely satisfactory intrusion that has you cumming so hard you see black spots, their loads leaking out in unison shortly after.

It takes a full minute before any of you dare to move except for the sake of kissing each other. Soft murmurs accompany the aftercare, but you’re too dazed to truly comprehend what’s going on until you lie snugly between them in the wide bed. Bucky’s absentmindedly twirling a strand of your hair. Loki entertains himself by teasing your nipples into tiny, hard buds.

“Whoooa…!” you sigh, not quite sure you believe it but also confident you never could have thought it up. “That was…when…? I mean how long…?”

Bucky just chuckles into your neck, preferring to kiss you rather than explain. At least Loki’s better at conveying the information you horrendously request.

“Neither of us wanted to back down, having recognized the interest you favour us with.” Soft lips nibble at yours. “Words were had –“

The soldier scoffs good-naturedly. “Words. Ha!”

“…maybe more then,” Loki concedes, “until we found another solution benefitting all three of us.”

“That was more than a month ago, doll.”

Thoughts a moving sluggishly in your brain, slowed by the sated state of your body. _Please don’t wait that long next time._

“We won’t.”

“Now rest.”


End file.
